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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880096">Away From the Sun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hovercraft79/pseuds/Hovercraft79'>Hovercraft79</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All The Magic [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Worst Witch (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, F/F, Implied animal abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:55:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,653</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hovercraft79/pseuds/Hovercraft79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hecate Hardbroom is feeling restless. Torn between the need to grow and her lingering guilt over Indigo, she decides to follow Miss Bat’s advice and move forward. To do that, she needs the proper credentials and for that she needs a tutor. Enter Ernestine Broomhead – Hecate’s ticket to a different life. She’s everything Hecate was looking for in a tutor. So why can’t Ada shake her misgivings?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle &amp; Hardbroom, Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle/Hardbroom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All The Magic [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Hackle Summer Trope Challenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Away From the Sun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic covers the Week 3 prompt ‘Stranded’ and begins the second trilogy in the set. I’ve sort of blended together different aspects of Broomhead’s backstory from her different iterations over the years – including her first name from the German version. I just couldn’t call her Hecketty.</p>
<p>The title comes the song by 3 Doors Down. </p>
<p>Thanks to Sparky for her editing efforts. These would all be a hot mess without her priceless input.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The late afternoon sun warmed Ada’s skin as she pointed her broom towards the ground in front of Darkwood Cottage. Her eyes found Hecate at once, standing in the garden and arranging refreshments on a table between two chairs. Once she finished, Hecate looked up, waving as she spotted Ada.</p>
<p>Warmed as much by the wave as by the sun, Ada increased her speed until she touched lightly down just in front of the cottage. “Well met, Hecate!”</p>
<p>“Well met, Ada!” Hecate handed Ada a mug of something warm with one hand as she magicked her broom to lean against the cottage with the other.</p>
<p>“Ohhh… well met, indeed,” Ada said, breathing in the rich scent of honeyed witch’s brew. “If the company wasn’t worth the flight, this certainly would be.” She settled into one of the garden chairs while Hecate prepared her own mug.</p>
<p>Hecate adjusted the cushions in her chair before sending a thin stream of magic into the carefully laid wood in the firepit in front of them. Soon, bright yellow flames crackled and popped, sending sparks flying into the darkening sky.</p>
<p>They sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying the fire, the drink, and the company. Over the past few years, they’d fallen into a comfortable routine. Every summer Ada helped Hecate prepare the annual vaccinations for the kittens as well as the potions and remedies for the school’s infirmary. Hecate helped Ada grow and prepare ingredients for her potions lab; in turn, Ada kept Hecate stocked in restricted ingredients.</p>
<p>Once fall set in and the term began, they met every Friday for dinner and drinks. Ada vented about her week, and Hecate shared the progress on her experiments. And her book. After the second summer of working together, Ada had convinced Hecate to publish her recipes for the kitten potions. The book had been remarkably well received. It had been so popular – and so highly regarded – that one of Witchdom’s primary publishing houses had purchased the rights to her next book sight-unseen. <em>The</em> <em>Practical Potioner</em> had even contracted with her to write a series of articles. It appeared Hecate Hardbroom was becoming something of a minor celebrity in the potions world.</p>
<p>A sudden gust of wind sent a fresh shower of sparks swirling into the night. Ada shuddered from the chill. “We’ll be shifting locations soon, I fear.” Each year, the cold-weather shift out of Hecate’s garden and into Ada’s parlor at Cackle’s caused more disappointment than the last. The time she spent with Hecate at Darkwood Cottage had become something of an escape for Ada. She was well-aware of the irony.</p>
<p>“I fear you may be correct.” Hecate took a sip of her drink. “How did the second-years fare with their duplication potions?”</p>
<p>Ada snorted into her mug. “I suppose that depends on whether you consider a few thousand mice let loose in the castle to be a good thing or not.”</p>
<p>Hecate chuckled softly. “No doubt the familiars consider it a resounding success.”</p>
<p>“Total carnage.” Ada shuddered at the memory. “We had to cancel lessons until someone had the brilliant idea to fetch Miss Bat. She chanted them into the sea.”</p>
<p>Horrified, Hecate nearly choked on her drink. “The sea! Ada! That’s…well… I suppose that’s the plot of the Pied Piper. But still…”</p>
<p>“No need to fret. Gwen said it would wear out about the time they reach Hallow Wood.”</p>
<p>“How did the girls manage to create so many mice? Did someone use crow feathers instead of raven?”</p>
<p>Ada shook her head. “Worse. The entire jar had been replaced with crow feathers. The whole class used them.”</p>
<p>Hecate leaned forward so quickly that she spilled some of her drink on her skirts. “Ada! That could have been disastrous! How did that happen? We filled that jar ourselves this summer.”</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t I love to know?” Ada shrugged. “A prank? Perhaps I’m growing feeble-minded in my dotage? I am soon to be forty you know.”</p>
<p>“Forty is hardly more than a child for witches. You know that.” She magicked her skirt dry and resettled herself in her chair. She watched as Ada used her magic to add another log to the fire. Another log meant Ada had something she needed to talk about. Rather than ask, Hecate waited for Ada to broach the subject herself.</p>
<p>“It seems it’s older than I thought,” Ada said at last. “Mother has finally set her retirement timeline in stone.”</p>
<p>“Ah.” Now Hecate understood the additional log. “She’s put it off a bit already. Are you certain? Is she certain?”</p>
<p>Ada stared pensively into the flames. “I’m to spend this year securing my replacement in the potions lab so that next year I can serve as full time Deputy Head and shadow Mother. She means to leave as soon as the spring term finishes.”</p>
<p>“You knew this was coming, surely? It’s why she summoned you home in the first place.” Patting her knee, Hecate made room for Morgana to hop into her lap and curl up for a scratch.</p>
<p>Knowing it was coming and her mother’s departure being tangibly here were two different things as far as Ada was concerned. “The timeline just seems so… concrete.”</p>
<p>“She’s certainly given you enough notice. I hardly think it will take a year to secure a potions teacher for a school with Cackle’s reputation.” Hecate remembered the time Mrs. Cackle had encouraged her to get her teaching credentials. She’d refused at the time, feeling unworthy of the trust the position required. Ada had asked as well. Now, thinking about the opportunity, she wished she’d said yes. Somehow, Ada made her feel like she might be… enough. <em>Another poor choice in a long line of them</em>, she thought.</p>
<p>“Well… you see… Mother wanted to make sure that our first choice to fill the position had time to get her credentials.” Finally, Ada pulled her eyes from the flames and turned to look at Hecate. “Since she has yet to do so.”</p>
<p>Hecate inhaled so sharply that Morgana growled in annoyance. “Sh-sh-she wants me? To teach?”</p>
<p>“She does. Moreover, I want you. To teach,” she added hastily. “If we bring in a tutor for the coursework you should be able to finish in a semester. You could spend the spring term apprenticing with me and take on all the classes when I move into the Deputy Head position.”</p>
<p>Even though she’d just been regretting turning down the earlier offer, Hecate discovered that another opportunity brought back the same panic and self-doubt as before. “I don’t know, Ada… you know my background…”</p>
<p>“I do. I also know my own. If mistakes made as a child disqualify one from a position at Cackle’s, then I’ve no business heading the school.” She swallowed the last of her drink. “Think about it over the weekend. Mother wants to talk to you about it herself on Monday.” She summoned the pot and refilled her mug. “Now, tell me about your next article.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Hecate waited outside Mrs. Cackle’s office, fingers twitching nervously at her sides. She'd spent the weekend wavering back and forth between excitement and anxiety. It had taken all her willpower to don her best dress and transfer to Cackle’s that morning. She still didn’t know what she would answer if Alma Cackle truly wanted her to teach.</p>
<p>“Look at you, dear!”</p>
<p>Hecate spun around to find Miss Bat eyeing her appraisingly.</p>
<p>“You look like quite the young professional.” Gwen stepped closer and looked up at her. “I’m glad to see you finally moving on with your life. You deserve to.”</p>
<p>Shame burned in Hecate’s gut. She didn’t deserve to move on, not while Indigo remained frozen. “I haven’t decided yet. It’s… it’s not right. I’m the last person who should be responsible for children’s education.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense. That’s that old cow Willowbark talking. Everyone can learn and grow, Miss Hardbroom; otherwise what’s the point of any of it? You are a brilliant young woman with a natural talent for potions and more magic in your blood than most of us here – combined. You cannot spend your life hiding away in Darkwood Cottage with only a cauldron and your cat for company.” She tapped Hecate on the collarbone. “The woods are full of bogwitches who’ve driven themselves mad obsessing over one thing or another. We don’t need another. Move forward, Hecate.”</p>
<p>“Coming back to Cackle’s hardly feels like moving forward.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure my daughter agrees with you,” Alma Cackle said, startling them both. “Come, Miss Hardbroom, let’s have a talk, shall we?”</p>
<p>“Move forward,” Gwen urged as Hecate disappeared into the office.</p>
<p>Inside, Alma started to show Hecate to the chair in front of her desk before changing her mind and directing her to the sofa. “Ada said she told you about my offer. You’ve had the weekend to think it over. What do you say, girl?”</p>
<p>Hecate hadn’t expected Mrs. Cackle to cut straight to the chase, though she shouldn’t have been surprised. “I – It’s…” She trailed off. “Why? How could you trust me to…?” She gestured hopelessly at the room.</p>
<p>“Because you ask the question.” She sat in the chair opposite the sofa. “If there’s one thing I rely on, it’s my judgement about people’s character. I’ve acted on that judgement all my life.” Her eyes lost their focus, as if she was staring at something no one else could see. “I’ve staked the future of this Academy on that judgement.” Her eyes focused sharply on Hecate. “I’ve no doubt that you would be a fine addition to the Academy. Your regard for the Code is unparalleled. Certainly, your renown is growing in the world of potions. I want the best for our girls. I believe that will be you.”</p>
<p>Hecate didn’t know what to say. She’d thought Mrs. Cackle must think her skilled or else she wouldn’t have considered her for the position, but to have her reasons laid bare in such a way… Hecate thought about what Miss Bat had said – that she needed to move forward. Looking down at her hands, Hecate had to admit that she had been restless lately. Perhaps she needed more than what her life had held so far.</p>
<p>“How can I move forward while Indigo still stands frozen in the woods.” Hecate shook her head. “It isn’t fair.”</p>
<p>“Och, girl. None of anything that happened to you was fair.” Alma moved to sit beside her on the sofa. “I know you think you deserve to be punished for what happened, but I’m telling you, Hecate, you have been. Indigo may be stone, but you are not. You’re a living, growing being.”</p>
<p>Wringing her hands in her lap, Hecate didn’t know what to say. She wanted this, but… “I won’t stop trying to free Indie.”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t expect you to. Does this mean I can tell Ada you’ve said yes? She’s about to crack a cauldron.”</p>
<p>Hecate wiped her hands on her skirt before holding one hand out to Mrs. Cackle. “I’d be honored to accept the position.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Hecate transferred into Mrs. Cackle’s office at precisely eight am.</p>
<p>“You’re late.”</p>
<p>Hecate frowned. The most severe-looking witch she had ever seen was standing in front of Mrs. Cackle’s fireplace, her faced pinched in annoyance. “It’s eight o’clock. I was told to be here at eight o’clock.”</p>
<p>“Ten minutes early is on time. On time is late. I expect any student of mine to adhere to strict standards of punctuality.” The woman stepped forward, tucking a pair of black leather flying gloves into her belt. “You will address me as Mistress Broomhead. We will work from seven am until ten pm Monday through Saturday, nine to nine on Sunday.”</p>
<p>Ada’s eyes widened. “That’s… quite a schedule. Must it be quite so arduous?”</p>
<p>“I believe I made my reservations about this truncated timeline for her studies quite clear. If you’d like to find a tutor with… lesser qualifications, be my guest.”</p>
<p>“No, no!” Ada took a step back. “I’ll defer to your judgement.” She turned to Hecate. “If that’s all right with you, Miss Hardbroom?”</p>
<p>Broomhead answered for her. “Of course, it is, otherwise I would not have been retained.” She pulled a pocket watch out of a pouch on her belt. “We’ve already lost too much time today. Let’s begin.” Without another word, she transferred both herself and Hecate away, leaving Ada alone in her mother’s office. The first misgivings about this whole situation took flight in her stomach like a colony of bats.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Slowly opening and closing her hands, Hecate clenched her jaw as the painful prickle of Broomhead’s magic burned under her skin. She would not cry. Not again. She’d learned that lesson already. Tears only added insults to her agony. She rotated her shoulder, hoping to relieve the ache from yesterday’s injuries.</p>
<p>“Will you allow your students to fidget as much as you are now? Stand.”</p>
<p>“No, Mistress Broomhead. Yes, Mistress Broomhead.” Hecate forced herself to stand without swaying. She’d had less than two hours sleep in the past two days. Broomhead had forbidden her from using Wide Awake potion, insisting that if Hecate couldn’t perform basic spells or potions while exhausted, she certainly couldn’t be trusted to supervise young witches.</p>
<p>Especially in light of her background.</p>
<p>Hecate had known, certainly, that whoever they chose as a tutor would have to be apprised of her situation, but somehow, she hadn’t really considered what all that might mean for her studies. More evidence that she was woefully unsuited to teaching. A hot jab of magic slammed into her right shoulder, pulling her back to the present.</p>
<p>“Will daydreaming be your excuse when you have to explain why some terrible fate has befallen another child in your care?” Broomhead checked the small leather notepad in her hand. “Again. Begin as though you were transferring but remain in this location. Hold yourself here, without form, for two minutes this time. On my mark… Now.” She pointed at Hecate as the young woman faded out of sight.</p>
<p>Barely a minute later Hecate lay gasping on the floor, her fingernails digging into the rug. Her ears buzzed and burned as though they were filled with bees. “I – I can’t…”</p>
<p>“You will – and before this day is through. Again.” Broomhead jabbed her same shoulder with the magic again.</p>
<p>Hecate felt a wetness on the skin of her shoulder. She felt another on her cheek and realized that, promise be damned, she was crying again. Struggling to her feet, she reminded herself that she deserved this. That if she hadn’t been reckless and weak, she wouldn’t have to atone for it now. If this was the price she must pay to <em>move forward</em>, then by Merlin’s staff she would do it. Ada’s faith in her would not be misplaced. “I’m ready.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You weren’t here, Mother. She was… intense.” Ada leaned on the corner of her mother’s desk, frustrated. She couldn’t explain the feeling, exactly. Just that something about Mistress Broomhead felt… twisted, wrong. She left a flavor on your tongue like the smell of a cauldron boiled dry.</p>
<p>Alma swatted at Ada’s backside with a folder. She’d always hated when the girls would sit on her desk. “Look, Ada, I know you’re concerned, but may I remind you that Miss Hardbroom chose her own tutor. Ernestine Broomhead has a reputation as a strict disciplinarian, that’s true. She might be overzealous in her adherence to the Code, but Hecate would certainly appreciate that. You seem to think this woman is somehow…abusive? Hecate would hardly choose someone like that.”</p>
<p>Ada stared at her mother. “Wouldn’t she though?” Ada slid to her feet, moving to sit on the steps up to the reading area. “You know as well as I do that Hecate doubts her own suitability, that she still feels guilty for what happened. I can’t explain it. My hackles are up, but I can’t tell you why.”</p>
<p>Alma considered Ada’s words, idly polishing the lenses of her glasses. “She would choose who she thought was best. Broomhead has a reputation for results.” She held up a hand to keep Ada still. “That said, if Broomhead turned out to be as harsh as you say… Aye, I think she would suffer through it because she thinks she deserves nothing better.”</p>
<p>Relief flooded through Ada. “What can we do? She’s all but stranded out there at the cottage.”</p>
<p>“Have you talked to her?”</p>
<p>“I’m supposed to mirror on Sunday night.”</p>
<p>Alma nodded. “Don’t miss that call.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Ada sat in front of her dressing table mirror, nervously arranging and rearranging her things. She’d changed her blouse three times, though she couldn’t say why it mattered. It certainly never had before.</p>
<p>At last, the mirror flickered to life. “Hecate!” Ada clapped her hands in delight. “How wonderful to see you! How goes the tutoring?”</p>
<p>For an instant, Hecate’s smile lit up the mirror, her eyes shining with happiness and affection. “Well met, Ada!” Then her eyes flickered to something behind the mirror and the light was snuffed out. “Mistress Broomhead is quite thorough. I fear I may not be up to the challenge,” her eyes flickered away and back again, and she added hastily, “but I’m giving it my best. I don’t want to disappoint Mrs. Cackle… or anyone else.”</p>
<p>Ada leaned close to the mirror, wishing she could take Hecate’s hand as she spoke. “You could never be a disappointment, my dear. No need to worry about that.” Though Hecate’s face remained carefully neutral, Ada could see the relief in her eyes.</p>
<p>They chatted for a while longer, Ada regaling Hecate with the antics of the new crop of first-years and Miss Gullet’s latest annoyances. Hecate listened, tutted or smiled at appropriate moments, but otherwise said little. When Ada asked her questions about the sort of lessons she was studying, Hecate gave vague, halting answers. Her eyes never quit glancing at whatever was behind the mirror.</p>
<p>Or whoever was behind it.</p>
<p>Ada knew without a doubt that Broomhead was monitoring their entire conversation. It took all her willpower to ignore it, to not demand some privacy. Just as she was about to crack, Broomhead appeared behind Hecate. Ada couldn’t miss the way Hecate stiffened.</p>
<p>“I believe that’s enough for tonight.” Broomhead clamped a possessive hand on Hecate’s right shoulder, causing the younger woman to wince. “Miss Hardbroom has a busy day ahead of her tomorrow. She needs to devote her remaining energies to preparing for it.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Ada ground out through clenched teeth and a fake smile. “Goodnight, Hecate. Same time next week?”</p>
<p>“That would be—”</p>
<p>Broomhead cut her off. “Goodnight, Miss Cackle.” She severed the mirror connection at once and turned to Hecate. “It appears that discipline at Cackle’s is even more slipshod than I feared.”</p>
<p>Back in her bedroom, Ada slumped in her chair, not reassured in the least, but no closer to being able to describe what kept prickling at her subconscious. Hecate looked well enough. Tired, perhaps. Stiff – but that could be chalked up to her discomfort with having an unfamiliar person in her home. Her eyes, though, were expressive as ever. <em>And beautiful</em>, Ada thought, wondering where that had come from. Knowing she had nothing new that would convince her mother that something was amiss, Ada turned in for the night, the image of Hecate’s first bright smile blossoming in her mind as soon as she closed her eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next few visits passed much the same as the first – stilted conversations while Broomhead hovered. Sometimes in the background, sometimes just out of sight, but always, always there, like Damocles’ sword hanging over Hecate’s head.</p>
<p>And Hecate. Still as close-mouthed as she’d been on their first mirror chat, though Ada was quickly becoming expert at reading the emotions that churned in her eyes. The eyes that seldom failed to appear in Ada’s dreams these days. Ada sighed. The tiredness in those eyes had given way to exhaustion some weeks ago, though she still insisted all was well.</p>
<p>Ada knew it was not. She just couldn’t find a way to convince her mother of it. “Perhaps tonight will be the night…” she told herself, as she did each week.</p>
<p>She checked her hair one last time before placing the mirror call. She’d changed her familiar dark auburn color for a lighter shade of brown. She’d told herself it had been time for a change. Her mother had laughed. More like time to cover all those new greys that were sproutin’ she’d said. She wondered if Hecate would like it or consider it the vain frippery of a middle-aged witch chasing her youth. <em>Won’t have long to wonder</em>, she thought as Hecate flickered into view.</p>
<p>“Well me – your hair! You’ve changed it!”</p>
<p>Ada beamed, far more pleased than she should be. “You don’t think it’s too much?”</p>
<p>“Not at all. It’s very becoming.” A light blush pinked Hecate’s cheeks.</p>
<p>Warmed by a blush of her own, Ada couldn’t do much but grin, not only because Hecate liked it, but also because this was as animated as she’d seen the woman in months.</p>
<p>Then Broomhead stepped into view and cleared her throat. Icy water dumped over them both wouldn’t have shifted the mood any faster. Ada quickly turned the conversation towards classes and the latest book she was reading.</p>
<p>As she spoke, Ada studied Hecate. Her eyes, her hair… the tension in her shoulders and the set of her lips. As she had each time, Hecate appeared well, if exhausted. Through the mirror Ada could see the cottage. All looked as it should. Morgana even sat napping, curled in a chair by the fire. Broomhead remained in the room, glaring at Ada through the mirror. Her face twisted as though she smelled something foul.</p>
<p>Suddenly, Broomhead sneezed. Three times in rapid succession.</p>
<p>Everything shimmered and for an instant, changed. Ada surged forward, trying to see, heedless of the items she sent clattering to the floor. But in the next instant it was as if nothing had happened.</p>
<p>“Ada!” Hecate stood, pressed her hand against the mirror. “Are you okay?”</p>
<p>“Wh – how? Did...” She shut her jaws with a snap. Hecate looked puzzled and concerned. Broomhead stared back at her with narrowed eyes. “My… chair… it just…” She dropped out of sight, pretending to fix the chair leg while she tried to gather her wits. Something had just happened. For a split-second Hecate had looked… haggard. Pale and gaunt with a bruise covering her cheek. There’d been… scorch marks? Stains? Something on the walls. Even Broomhead had looked different somehow. “You know how old everything is here,” she said, climbing back into her chair. “And blessings, Sister. I hope you aren’t coming down with a cold.”</p>
<p>“Certainly, not,” Broomhead said, the scowl never leaving her face.</p>
<p>Ada forced a smile, forced herself back to the conversation, forced herself to keep her eyes on Hecate. Well, the last part wasn’t all that difficult. Too soon, Broomhead cut the visit short, not allowing either of them the chance to say goodnight.</p>
<p>Once she was sure the connection was severed, Ada paced the room, trying to remember everything she’d seen. She had seen it, hadn’t she? Hadn’t she?</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next week, Ada was ready. She’d borrowed an Ordinary video camera from Miss Bat, of all people, and set it up so it would record the mirror. It had taken several tries, but she’d finally positioned it so Ada wouldn’t block the mirror or look like she was sitting in a strange way.</p>
<p>Nine o’clock came and went. After five minutes Ada started the call herself, leaning back with a gasp when Mistress Broomhead’s face appeared on the other side.</p>
<p>“Miss Hardbroom sends her regrets, but she will be unable to join you this evening. She has more important matters to attend.” The mirror went dark.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Perhaps, daughter, Miss Hardbroom is more focused on her studies than on maintaining your friendship? It wouldn’t be the first time.”</p>
<p>Ada sat hunched on the sofa in her mother’s office with her elbows planted firmly on her knees, hands clutched together. She knew what her mother said was true. “I know. Believe me I know how driven Hecate can be, but I don’t think she’s chosen to cut off contact.” <em>Not with me</em>, she thought.</p>
<p>After the third cancelled mirror call, Ada had transferred straight to her mother’s quarters, dragging her to the office. She’d summoned Miss Bat while she was at it, though so far, the old woman had done little but sit in her robe and yawn.</p>
<p>“I know you’ve had misgivings about Mistress Broomhead since the beginning, Ada, but I hardly think that missing a few mirror chats is cause for getting your knickers in a twist.” Alma crossed from her desk to sit opposite Ada on the sofa. “Use your head, Ada. Hecate chose this woman out of all of those that applied. She’s not who I would have chosen, not you either. How would it look if we second-guessed that choice now?” Alma looked at her daughter over the top of her spectacles. “Well?”</p>
<p>Once again, that long-familiar feeling of being scrutinized washed over her. “Like we don’t trust her judgement, but Mother—”</p>
<p>“That’s only part of it. I told you long ago that I mean to leave her be, as much as I possibly can. Rushing in there right now, trying to be some sort of heroine flying in on a white broomstick only reinforces the idea that she has no agency.”</p>
<p>“But if something’s wrong…” Ada trailed off. She couldn’t keep it to herself anymore. “I haven’t told you everything.” She explained the strange shimmering and shifting she’d seen during the last mirror call.</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” her mother asked, annoyed.</p>
<p>“I’d half convinced myself that it didn’t happen. But… isn’t it suspicious that the mirror calls stopped immediately after?”</p>
<p>“Maybe it didn’t happen,” Alma mused. “Maybe the calls stopping is a coincidence.”</p>
<p>For the first time, Miss Bat stirred. “Sounds like a glamour to me.”</p>
<p>Ada and Alma both turned.</p>
<p>“A what?” Ada asked. “Those are forbidden by the Code!”</p>
<p>“As is harming another witch, but that’s what you think this Broomhead woman has done, isn’t it?” Gwen yawned again. “It has all the hallmarks of a glamour – a bloody powerful one, I might add. If—”</p>
<p>With a soft pop, a wicker basket appeared on Alma’s desk.</p>
<p>“What on earth?” Alma pulled her robe more tightly around herself and approached it slowly. A plaintive mew came from inside. Hurrying over, Alma unlatched the top. A black shape flew out of the basket, racing across the carpet and under the sofa.</p>
<p>“Is that…” Ada dropped to the floor in front of the sofa, peering anxiously underneath. “Morgana? Come here, girl. You know me…” She stretched her hand under the sofa. “It’s Ada, did your mistress send you?” After a few moments more of soft persuasion, a black nose finally peeked out. Ada pulled her the rest of the way out, cuddling her in her lap. “That’s a good girl.” She ran her hands over Hecate’s familiar. The cat was thin, with dull fur and a missing patch near her tail. “Surely, Mother, you must believe me now. Hecate would never allow Morgana – or any familiar – to come to such a state if she had any power to prevent it.”</p>
<p>Alma nodded. “Aye… she wouldn’t send her away, either. I think you’re right. The girl’s in trouble.”</p>
<p>A suddenly chipper Gwen Bat waved her hand, magicking herself into her traveling robes. “Well, then… I guess we’d better fetch our white broomsticks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Even from the air, Ada could see that things were bad at the cottage. She pulled her broom up, bringing the three of them to a hover over the gardens. “This isn’t right.”</p>
<p>Alma squinted into the darkness. The pale moonlight illuminated the winter-barren garden revealing dead plants covered by a light dusting of snow. “It looks like any other garden in winter. What’s wrong with it?”</p>
<p>“Hecate uses a localized weather spell to keep part of the gardens green year-round. It’s never dead like this. I fear this means she doesn’t have the magic to hold the spell.”</p>
<p>Alma looked at her in alarm. ‘Not enough magic’ were not words anyone would use to describe Hecate Hardbroom. “Then we need to be cautious.” She leaned forward, leading them downward until she landed at the front door. She reached slowly for the doorknob, stopping when the air around her hand began to glow red. “She’s warded it.”</p>
<p>Instinctively, Ada and Gwen stepped back. Ultimately, Darkwood Cottage belonged to Cackle’s Academy. As Headmistress, Alma’s claim to it was total – no one could ward her out of her own property. That didn’t mean that breaching the wards wouldn’t be messy.</p>
<p>Alma raised her hands, magic gathering in her palms like the rising sun. Just before she could cast, the front door swung open, revealing a furious Mistress Broomhead.</p>
<p>“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” she demanded, blocking the doorway.</p>
<p>“Frankly, concerns have been raised about your methodology,” Alma said, in her sternest Headmistress voice.</p>
<p>“My methodology? How dare you question my methods!” She started to shut the door in their faces, but Alma raised a hand, holding the door open.</p>
<p>Ada stepped in front of Gwen. “Where’s Hecate?”</p>
<p>“Considering the hour, I’m sure she’s sleeping.”</p>
<p>If Broomhead thought she was going to intimidate Ada, she was horribly mistaken. “Considering she just transferred her familiar to Mother’s office, I’d say she’s wide awake!” Ada pushed her way into the cottage. “HECATE! We’re here, Hecate.” Slowly, Hecate emerged from the bedroom. Ada hurried to her, skidding to a stop when Hecate flinched. “You’re all right, dear. You’re safe.”</p>
<p>“I-is Morgana…”</p>
<p>“Safe as well.” Ada took a cautious step closer. The relief in Hecate’s eyes caused her heart to ache. “It’s you I’ve worried about.” Pale and disheveled from sleep, Hecate smiled faintly, nonetheless.</p>
<p>“Are you quite satisfied? All is well, save for the disruption to my timetables.” Broomhead opened the door wider, pointing for Ada to get out. Instead, Alma and Gwen came inside. “This is ridiculous! I’ve half a mind to resign my post this instant! I’ve never seen such unprofessionalism! You act like you’ve all been bitten by bats.”</p>
<p>“What did you say?” Gwen pulled her hood back, revealing her face. Broomhead’s eyes widened. Gwen looked carefully around the cottage, sniffing at the air. Closing her eyes, Gwen began a low chant, gradually getting louder and louder. They all watched as the air began to shimmer and everything began to glow light blue. As Gwen finished her chant, a powerful wind swept through the room, pulling away the glamour, revealing the wreckage that had once been Hecate’s home.</p>
<p>Ada scrambled to catch a collapsing Hecate. “I’ve got you… you’re okay…” Ada frantically tried to assess the damage. Hecate was thin… dangerously so. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and a fresh bruise darkened the right side of her forehead. Her nightgown slipped off her shoulder, revealing a trail of blisters that disappeared beneath the fabric. “She can’t hurt you anymore…” Anger surged through Ada’s blood, setting her magic ablaze. She wasn’t the only one.</p>
<p>Alma held Broomhead in a vise-like grip of magic while Gwen studied her through narrowed eyes. Broomhead tried to turn away or cover her face, but it was no use.</p>
<p>“I know you…” Gwen muttered. “Your name isn’t Ernestine Broomhead, it's Wilhelmina Wormwood. We were in the same cohort at Witch Academy. You got expelled for terrorizing the other girls, always turning people into snakes and lizards. When they finally caught you, you tried to freeze the whole school inside a block of ice. You blamed it all on getting bitten by a bat when you were a child. I’ll wager that’s not in your references.”</p>
<p>“No. It wasn’t,” Hecate whispered.</p>
<p>“Take her home, Ada. Get her sorted. Miss Bat and I will see to things here.” Nodding her dismissal, Alma tapped the corner of the sitting room mirror, asking for the Great Witch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alma and Gwen returned just after dawn. Alma transferred into her office and found Hecate curled up on the sofa, sound asleep with Morgana tucked against her chest. Ada dozed in one of the chairs opposite. She smacked her on the thigh as she dropped into the other chair, causing Ada to wake with a snort. “How is she?”</p>
<p>Ada yawned and stretched. “Tea?” Alma nodded and she set to preparing a pot. “Physically, it’s mostly superficial. There are some… wounds… across her back that I can’t make tail or whiskers of – we’ll need a proper medi-witch for those. She’s exhausted. Even with us using mostly my powers, she collapsed from magical exhaustion as soon as we arrived.” She handed her mother a steaming cup. “Mentally? I don’t know. It wouldn’t hurt to make a call to Miss Hagsmet.”</p>
<p>“Aye.” Alma’s eyes shifted to Hecate as she mumbled softly in her sleep. “The Great Witch took Broomhead… or Wormwood, I suppose, into custody. But not before I got these.” Alma summoned a small stack of papers and handed them to Ada. “Hecate’s credentials. Signed by the Great Witch herself. We’ll have to see what sort of damage needs to be undone, but…” she winked at Ada, “I’m sure you can see to that.”</p>
<p>Ada nodded. She certainly could.</p>
<p>“Get some sleep, daughter. We’ll sort it tomorrow and you'll see. Everything will be well.” She set her cup down and made her way to the door. Hand on the knob, she stopped and turned back to Ada. “I should have listened to you sooner. It’s a mistake I’ll try not to make again.” She closed the door softly behind her.</p>
<p>Ada leaned back in her chair, warmed by the tea and her mother’s words. Everything would be well. She'd see to it.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For anyone nerdy enough to wonder, yes, the buzzing bees that filled Hecate’s ears when she tried to make herself invisible are a nod to Doli, the crankiest woodsman in all of Prydain. Maybe we need a Prydain Chronicles AU?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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